


Res publica AU

by Resterampe (BreitzbachBea)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Like Father Like Son (Online Novel), Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Ancient Rome, And yes I am rereading Harris' Cicero Trilogy, F/M, Franci and Michele both want the consulship because of a hella dumb bet, Gen, Hilarity Ensues, M/M, Politics, Roman Republic, Scheming, Slaves, Yes I had an Alte Geschichte Seminar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-03 02:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21171827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreitzbachBea/pseuds/Resterampe
Summary: This is a small collection of writings that I set in my res publica AU of LFLS. Here Francesco and Michele both threw themselves into the political arena of the late Roman Republic because of one dumb, catty talk they had one night at a party. A dirty fight with all the tricks in the book ensues.





	1. Haven't you heard?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No consulship is won without political allies, but Michele suggest to his rival Francesco that he might look for more prestigious ones. 
> 
> When he does, Michele wants to eat his words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _pedarii_ are senators that never held an office or at least made it far up the ladder of the _cursus honorum_. In this AU, Lovino and Feliciano Vargas are bankers and businessmen, who have little political ambitions themselves, but are friends with Franci and help him out.

"Oh Francesco, you may have money but what is your friends money worth as long as they are pedarii?" Michele told him one day after the senate was done. The two had this curious habit of going a little bit of their way together, despite being outspoken rivals. "As long as they won't buy you friends that are actually heard, it won't help you advance anything in the senate."

After they parted ways, Harry said: "Now you've given him ideas."

Michele was unfazed as ever. "If he needed me to give him this idea, then he's not serious competition anyways."

* * *

A few weeks later, the news reached Michele on the same way. Just before he and Francesco parted ways, he turned around to him. "Oh, by the way, have you heard? There's this rumor that the troops are coming back from Hispania. I wonder if we're going to hear about it in the senate tomorrow."

Michele frowned. "Curious where you get those rumors from."

Francesco grinned. "Some pedarii," he stomped with his foot, "also have really keen ears." He tapped his own ear a few times before he turned around for good and went on his way.

* * *

By the time they had reached home, Michele had figured it out. "And some pedarii also have silver tongues and not an ounce of shame in their body!" he screamed once he was in his bedroom and the door was closed. "I can't believe he's doing this!"

"Who is doing what?" Harry asked after he had opened the door without knocking. Michele's furious expression did not unsettle him as much as the worried faces of the twins. "What happened?"

"Bad news," Marco said.

"Francesco's got a new friend in the senate," Lorenzo said.

"And what a friend! Do you remember Antonio, Harry?" Michele asked.

"The military officer? What's up with him, isn't he in hispania?" Harry's eyes followed Michele, who walked up and down in his room, hands still balled into fists.

"Not for long anymore, apparently!" Michele whirled around to him. "Some little bird must have told Francesco that our military trouble in that region is over so our glorious army can return back home! At their head our dearest and bravest Antonio of course - who was a praetor before he left and he's going to take his seat as one. Who knows, maybe he's going to become consul next! Just climb up the ladder, only so that until Francesco's sitting on the chair himself, he's got someone who makes his concerns heard when he has to stay silent." Michele had begun to walk again and his words were accompanied by wild gestures. "Antonio, of all people! He's not dumb, but he's a man of the military. If he actually has something to say, he's not going to do it in the manner of a politician and it's going to be like 10 words. He would barely have to stand up! What does Francesco want to do, that Lovino writes his speeches?" The thought seemed to amuse him. "Oh, they'd just be one foul word after the other, the real reason Lovino probably talks so little is because if it goes on longer than ten minutes then half of it is curse words. But how many! We should consider us blessed if he'd wrote a speech, its vulgarity would enrichen the Latin language beyond measure!" His comment had the others laugh and he himself had a sly smile on his lips. "Or maybe Francesco has enough free time to write the speeches for himself. What better practice could he get for the time he'll be a praetor himself next year?"

Michele walked one last round before he sank onto the bed between Marco and Lorenzo. The smile was gone and only a look of resignation on his face. "The worst thing is, I know that he didn't pay a single as in this whole thing. Antonio doesn't need money, unless he's got into trouble in hispania that somehow never reached Rome's walls. No, Francesco didn't use his friends to buy himself some support high up in the ladder, he used them to seduce himself someone." Michele fell onto his back, arms stretched out. "I am curious how those letters looked like that Lovino and Feliciano sent him. I bet aside from invocations of their families' closeness, there must have been things in there that would make the lewdest poets break into a sweat."

"You think Antonio will help Francesco just because his lover back home fluttered his eyelashes?"

"Didn't you listen?" Michele crossed his arms behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. "He's a man of the military. He likes compliments, fights, wine and pretty lovers. And he's going to get all of this and more when he comes to Rome."

"Oh yes, he's going to get a fight, alright," Marco said.

"It'll make him wish he would have stayed back in hispania with the rebels," Lorenzo added.

"You heard it, you have your own men of the military here," Harry said and clapped his hands. "Up, up, be our general and give us orders. What general has ever lost to a whore and her master?"


	2. Why a guy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michele and Arielle had just married - a financial and political decision on Michele's part. Harry, his best friend and slave, knows that. He also knows his place in this new household. He's not jealous, or anything. He respects Arielle as new house mistress, greatly, too. 
> 
> He is simply baffled at her entourage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To even be able to join the senate, one had to have a minimun amount of financial capital - which Michele despite owning land in Sicily does not have. So he married Arielle, daughter of a Roman citizen and knight in _gallia transalpina_, modern day South France.

„Why a guy?“ Harry had asked Michele. “I mean, she’s also got her girls … but why a guy, too?” 

“Why don’t you ask her herself?” Michele asked while he went through documents he had received from his secretary. He had a knowing smile on his lips and it was still on his face when he glanced back to Harry after a few moments. 

Harry had pressed his mouth shut and shuffled in his place. Michele chuckled. 

“She wouldn’t rip your head off, you know?” he said. “She can’t, you’re mine.” He pinched his cheek and laughed. 

“Yes, but she might take it as an insult,” Harry said. “You know, she might think that I think she’s …” He left the words unspoken, but they hung in the air. 

Michele looked up from his desk, to which he had returned. “And you think that’s a bad thing? Is that why you’re so hung up about this?” 

“Well, what if she is?” Harry crossed his arms. 

“If she is doing the same as I am?” 

Harry turned his red face away and bit his lip. Michele snorted before he sat down at his desk. 

_I know it’s dumb,_ he thought but didn’t say. Michele surely knew it either way. 

Before he left, Michele told him: “Why don’t you ask him yourself? You’re basically the third in command in this house, he has to respond to you, anyways.” 

Harry took one last look at Michele, who hadn’t looked up from his documents, scratched his head and went.

* * *

“Why did she take you along?” Harry followed Michele’s advice a few days later. 

Hugo stopped in his tracks and blinked at him. “Huh, me? Taken me along to what.” 

“Arielle, why did she take you along with her girls when she married Michele?” Harry explained further. “What does she need a guy for?” 

Hugo laughed. “Oh, she just likes me a lot. We grew up together, since I was born in her father’s house and we always got along as _if_ I was one of her girls.” 

Harry squinted at him. _You are much more lovestricken with her than any of her maidens._

Hugo didn’t seem to notice or think much of it. He leant down to Harry and lowered his voice. “You know, I always liked helping her instead of working for her father and I did things that her girls couldn’t do. He really didn’t want to let me go though, Arielle had to fight to take me along. What a scene she made! You should have seen it!” He giggled. For such a tall and massive man, he sure had a high voice, but Harry couldn’t judge since his own voice had the same ‘problem’. “She got him to let me go with her by saying she needed some protection on the long travel down to Italia.” 

Protection, huh? Harry blinked and relaxed a little. Hugo _was_ tall, exceptionally so. 

“So you two are just friends,” Harry yet asked and regretted the wording in the same moment. “You’re just her favourite,” he rephrased. 

Hugo smiled at him, but it was somewhat pained. As if Harry’s words had reminded him of something hurtful. “Yes, we’re just friends. She likes to have someone to talk who isn’t of her maidens. Someone who could tell her more than them, since, you know, her father took me along to town and all.” He grinned. 

“Alright, alright,” Harry said and waved his hand. “Get back to work now.” As Hugo turned on his heels, he changed his mind however. He grabbed the collar of his tunic and pulled him around until he was on eye level with him. “You better get rid of your affinity for secret sharing and gossiping here, though, no matter how much Arielle likes that about you. Nothing that happens in this house will leave it, understood?” 

Hugo, eyes wide, nodded and Harry let go of him. He walked quicker out of the room than he had before.


	3. To a brighter future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything on this trip to Crete is a first for Hugo, Arielle's most loyal friend and servant. It almost felt like he was a part of her new family. 
> 
> Little did he know that the invitation to Crete was indeed an invitation to join them on a journey bigger than the one across the Ionian Sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of Greek drapery here, for which my sources have been predominantly these two guides, one [Roman](https://1000atmosphaeren.at/2015/11/11/costume-guide-romans/) and one [Greek](https://www.dropbox.com/s/u316ouz5lfjsyxy/Gewandungsleitfaden%20Griechen.pdf?dl=0%20Gewandungsleitfaden). Both of them are in German, but you might find the pictures interesting either way. My research on representing women's appearances in the late roman republic for a term paper of mine also helped, but I can't link you the sources for this, sadly. Academic nerds might however be interested in _Portraits of Livia. Imagining the Imperial Woman in Augustan Rome_ by Elizabeth Bartman. See if your university library has it and thank me later!
> 
> In ancient Greece and Magna Graecia, jewellery was predominantly worn by woman, at least in public, since men showing of their wealth was met with disapproval. 
> 
> Glass was of course also an incredibly expensive material in the ancient world, Herakles allowing his slaves to use it is an eccentric exception.
> 
> The Saturnalia was a big Roman festival in december during which social norms weren't taken so serious.

Hugo had never been to Crete before, even though the family had went there more than once ever since he had moved to Rome.

On the one hand, whenever Michele, Arielle and Harry had left, he had been put in the latter’s place. The trust they placed on him had made him proud but it also sorely reminded him that despite knowing Arielle for his whole life, he wasn't as big of a part in her new family anymore.

So Hugo had embraced it when she had told him that he'd come along this time. "You're of better use to us than to the twins who're staying here," she had said.

In Crete, they resided in the house of Michele's old friend Herakles and Hugo's luck didn't run out there. Instead of sleeping with the rest of the slaves, he had his own room, albeit it a shared one with Harry. Before dinner, during which Hugo had assumed they'd not be needed anyways, Michele had chased both of them to their room and ordered them to come to the dining room when they had changed.

“Changed?” Hugo had dared to ask after Michele had left.

“I'm just as clueless as you are,” Harry had answered him but went to the room without any further words.

“Ah,” he said after they had entered. He walked straight to one of the beds and picked up a piece of cloth that laid on top of it. Hugo thought it was a simple tunic at first, but it had a different form.

Harry sighed and wasted no time to get undressed. He threw the cloth around him, closed on one side. On the other, he fastened it with a brooch on his shoulder and threw a belt around his waist to close it.

When Hugo followed his example, intimidated by Harry's wordless knowledge of what to do, he noticed that both brooches and cloth were simpler than Harry's.

Maybe we switched it up, he just took one without knowing if this is supposed to be his bed, Hugo thought. He knew that it was no more than a wish though. If anyone in this house got expensive gifts, it was Harry, not him.

Once he was done getting dressed, he noticed that there was one brooch left over. “What's with this one?” he finally asked Harry and showed him the brooch.

“Oh, you can use that to close the chiton on the other shoulder as well,” Harry said.

Chiton. Of course. Hugo was ashamed of himself that he hadn't recognized the cloth that so many people wore down in Syracusae as well as the countless divine statues in Rome.

He decided it was probably for the better if he covered his chest and hadn't one tit hanging out like Harry.

Especially because his actually _hung_ out unlike Harry's, he thought.

After he had fixated the chiton over his other shoulder as he would have a simple tunic, he looked over to Harry.

“Huh, we're done here then,” he said but as he turned to go, stumbled over something. “Fuck! What the - oh.” Something turned out to be sandals, even simpler than the ones they were already wearing, but far from looking cheap either.

After they had changed out of their old sandals into the new ones, Hugo followed Harry without a word. He had never been to his house, but Harry seemed to know it like the back of his hand. Maybe he just followed the sound of talking and laughter, though.

When they entered the dining room, Michele was in the midst of laughing when he turned to them.

It died on his lips. He furrowed his eyebrows and with a “Harry!” got up from the sofa.

He wore a chiton as well, but closed on both sides so it rather reminded Hugo of a tunic. Over it, he wore a himation, both of much finer materials than their clothes.

“Can’t you have some decency? You’re not off to doing field work, why didn’t you put it on properly?!” He gathered the cloth in his hand and tried to hoist it over Harry’s shoulder, from where it predictably fell when Michele threw his arms up. Hugo noticed the rings on his fingers and bracelets on his arms.

There was a chuckle in the room and it wasn’t Hugo’s.

“What?” Harry shrugged. “It’s not like it matters, this won’t leave this room. Nobody will see me.”

“My friends and their guests are not _nobody_,” Michele said with a lot of pressure beneath his words. He pointed at Hugo. “Here, Hugo did it right, so why couldn’t you?!”  
Hugo was now relieved to have made his choice, so that he was a good example instead of being dressed down alongside with Harry.

“I don’t see a problem with it,” Herakles said. He had also been the one to chuckle earlier. His outfit resembled Michele’s, though he seemed to be even more lavishly bedecked with golden jewellery. The only one who didn’t fit the pattern was Herakles’ other guest Sadık, who wore the garments of his own culture. This was the first time Hugo saw his face. Most of it had been wrapped into a shawl during the brief times they had met before.

Hugo wondered for a moment how he would have looked had he come straight from the land of his ancestors. He’d not have worn some mediocre chiton, that was for sure. Not that he could have told what he had worn instead. Hugo, born in gallia transalpina into a Roman household, had never much cared for his Carthaginian roots. It wasn’t about his roots or that he wished Carthage would still be proud and standing. He just wished in this moment he’d matter a little more, more than a slave, that he’d be a free man and if Cartage never having lost a war would’ve meant he’d be more than a _nobody_ here, then so be it.

Both his longing and the argument between Harry and Michele was interrupted when Arielle came into the room. The cloth of her peplos was so fine that it seemed to be nothing but waves that streamed down from her body. She wore a Himation above it as well, but instead of wrapping it around her, she had fastened it with a brooch over her shoulder. Its collar was low enough to show the jewellery that hung from the overlapping fabric of the peplos and its open side allowed a peek at the embroidered and bejewelled girdle around her hips.

Everything about her seemed to gleam. She wore makeup on her face and it only added depth to her dark brown eyes. The golden hairnets did the same for her black hair, which was braided into plaits and curled into elaborate knots. Earrings shone through from behind one curl of hair draped in front of her ear.

She was breath taking. Compared to her orderly, nevertheless beautiful appearance as staunch Roman matrona, she looked like a Greek princess.

An impressed murmur went through the room and Hugo couldn’t tell if he had been part of it or if he had still been lost for words.

Arielle was followed by Timothea, one of Herakles slaves. She looked at Arielle with a certain fondness, but whenever she took her eyes off her, her expression became proud and self-pleased.

“Ah, my love,” Michele said and took Arielle’s hand into both of his before he pressed a kiss to it. She wore rings as well and smiled about the gesture. “You look stunning. If I wouldn’t know it better, I’d say you’re wearing Aphrodite’s enchanted girdle and if we weren’t already married, I’d sweep you away like Paris did with Helena.”

Arielle allowed him to kiss past her wrist before she pulled her arm away. “It was Paris, though, who wore the girdle.”

Herakles laughed before he said: “Your wife knows her Homer better than you do, my friend.”

Michele ignored it. “Because Paris needed the help, you, however are the most beautiful woman in the world indeed.” He took her hand again before he pulled her closer and spun behind her. Arielle let out a surprised “Oh!” and he chuckled. “Is your name Psyche? Because you might have made the goddess of beauty and love jealous.”

Sadık whispered something into Herakles ear, who responded with a whisper as well.

Arielle laughed with Michele now and her hand still in his, he stepped around her again. He took both of her hands into his and kissed them one last time. “You’re going to make a beautiful wife to my consul,” he said and straightened. Arielle’s look for him was full of solemn affection.

When Michele turned around, he noticed Hugo’s stare. His eyes went back to Arielle for a moment before he turned to him. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Hugo nodded and let out a “Hmh!” He could already feel the blood rush to his cheeks.

Michele either ignored it or hadn’t noticed. “It’s great to have an opportunity to dress up, I could never show myself like that in public, not even here. A Roman has to dress like a Roman, especially when they aren’t in Rome. I already have to suffer enough quips about Provincialism, I don’t need to feed the hand that points at me.” His tone had become more and more irritated and he plopped down on his sofa with a frustrated sigh. He stared at the ceiling until Arielle joined him and he helped her lie down. “Here however,” he said, eyes first on Arielle and then looked around one, “we can be free to live and laugh as we want.”

“Sounded like a toast,” Herakles said and Michele reached for his cup.

Before Hugo knew it, Timothea had taken his arm and gently pulled him towards a wall. The next moment, he held a glass cup full of diluted wine.

His eyes widened. “Is that actual glass?” he asked while he even lifted it to look underneath.

“Yes, so don’t drop it,” she said with a giggle.

“To us and to the gods, that they may smile upon us,” Michele said with a raised glass.

“And that they may turn a blind eye to all of the trickery you’ll have to employ in the next years,” Herakles said and Harry laughed. He stood behind Michele’s sofa, near a wall like Hugo.

Michele wagged his finger with a grin. “It’s called divine intervention in the myths, not trickery.”

“No matter how you get to the top, by the time I come around these parts again, I better not see you here but hear about your successes in Rome, so you didn’t bore me with your politics for nothing,” Sadık said. “How about we drink to that.”

“Sounds good to me,” Michele said and to that they drank.

“You have a really beautiful mistress,” Timothea whispered to Hugo afterwards and he almost dropped the glass.

He nodded and said: “I do.”

“I had to beg her, Michele and Herakles to help her with her outfit, but in the end, I got my way.” She again seemed awfully proud. She herself wore her thick hair braided and curled into a knot and earrings. Her chiton was of finer material than a slave was ought to have, finer even than the one Hugo wore. He was reminded again of his low rank in the pecking order.

“Ah, don’t make such a face,” Timothea said. “No one with such a beautiful mistress should make such a face. Let’s get more wine, Omar,” she told her brother. He wore a chiton from the same material as his sister and in the same way as Hugo, but his seemed to have more fabric between the chest and waist. Hugo wished he would have enough loose fabric to hide his figure as well.

* * *

This thought was forgotten by the end of the night, however. At Michele’s house, their slaves had always been free to eat the leftovers if they craved something more than their own simple dinner but even when he was presented with the full menu on the Saturnalia, Hugo had always preferred the sweets above everything else. So when chairs were brought in and Michele and Herakles told them all to take a seat, he gladly left the more hearty leftovers to the others.

“Your friend has a sweet tooth,” Sadık said while Hugo had just dipped another date into honey. “And a hollow one as well.” He laughed and Hugo blushed.

“Yes, Hugo is such a sweet man,” Michele said. “He’s exactly what I need.”

Only now Hugo realized that everyone stared at him. He quickly swallowed the date and put the bowl with the rest down. “Need for what?” he asked Michele.

Michele held his gaze for a moment. His smile faded and the expression on his calm face was more serious. “We brought you here to ask something of you.” Hugo’s hairs stood on end, but he waited for Michele to continue. Michele shuffled on his sofa before he did. “I need someone to find out what’s going on in Rome without Francesco or anybody, really, knowing. The twins are fine and fast, really, but Francesco and his friends know them, as they do Harry by now. You however,” he said and pointed at Hugo with his cup, “they don’t know. You’re just Arielle’s servant after all, aren’t you? Plus, you’re just going to do what you always do – hang around the Forum, be part of a curious crowd when something happens, chat up a few maidens. Be nice to them, be very nice to them if need be,” Michele said on the quiet. “You’re a handsome man, I’m sure they’ll open up to you.” He made an obscene gesture which had the rest laugh.

“Basically, we need you to do everything that I can’t,” Harry said with a grin. Michele snorted about that and reached out to rub his knee.

“Ah, Michele, but can’t I do that for you?” Timothea asked. “I’d do all of that for you, too, if Herakles let me go with you. I’d be perfect for it.”

“Oh Thea, as much as I’d love to take you along to take care of all the girls that won’t respond to Hugo, a completely new face would be too obvious.”

Timothea got up and sat down on the edge of Michele’s sofa. She leant in to him and cocked her head as she looked deep into his eyes, her own half open. “You know I can also be incredibly charming with men.”

Michele caressed her cheek. “I know Thea, but I think Herakles would miss you dearly. I can’t do this to a friend.” He looked back at Hugo: “So? What do you say?” His soft features hardened again when he carried on: “The clock’s ticking and I don’t have the same amount of connections that Francesco has. If I want to stay one step ahead, I need to let him believe he has the upper hand, he needs to think I’m a poor oblivious idiot, who can only know as much as he does. I know all of his faces, of his slaves and of his allies, so he needs to think that he does as well.”

“So … you want me to be your spy? Like all the others?” Hugo asked. So that’s why he had been invited and asked to join the dinner. That’s why he was being treated so nicely.

It made him excited.

“Exactly, my friend,” Michele said. “You’ll do your poor master the favour, will you?”

“You’ll do it for me, won’t you, Hugo?” Arielle asked and she could have asked him to jump into the Tiber, he would have done it.

So he nodded and said: “Yes, of course!”

A radiant smile spread on Michele’s face. “Great! That calls for another round of wine!”

Hugo felt out of place in the best of ways when all cups and glasses were raised again and Michele said: “To Hugo then!”

“And your consulship,” Arielle added. “Which he is hopefully going to win you.”

“Indeed,” Michele said. “What would I do without you?” He kissed her cheek, turned to Harry and stretched his arm out to him. Harry took it and Michele pulled it close enough to kiss his palm. “Without all of you,” he said and Hugo felt another sting in his chest. Michele turned to him with such a genuine happy smile that the sting disappeared within a heartbeat. “Most of all you, Hugo. To you!”


End file.
